Holy Thursday

Jesus' Final Teaching

The night before he died, Jesus gives a strange, mystical speech to his disciples. This was his last will and testament. In the course of this seemingly rambling discourse, Jesus is luring them, for the last time, into his vision of things, which is to say, into a world in which the fear of death has been overcome.

From the beginning of his ministry, Jesus spoke of a divine love that loves us unconditionally, that reaches out to us even when we wander far away, and that loves us even through the terror and darkness of death. Just as he moved into the shame and marginalization of sin in order to bring the light to sinners, now he will move into the darkness of death in order to show us the way through.

Jesus is about to leave this world, and he prays that his disciples might know that they are not of this world. What does this world look like concretely? Well, look around.
The fear of death is like a cloud, like a terrible shadow that falls over human life and experience. All of our proximate fears are reflections of, and participations in, this primordial fear. It cramps us, turns us in on ourselves, and it makes us defensive, hateful, violent, and vengeful.

Further, structures of oppression in our world are predicated upon the fear of death. Because a tyrant can threaten his people with death, he can dominate them and perpetrate all sorts of injustice.

Whenever the strong (in any sense) overwhelm the weak, we are looking at the ways of death.

Jesus came to inaugurate what he called the Kingdom of God, God’s way of being, God’s order. This is an order based upon the infinite and death-defying love of God. What would the world look like under the influence of this love? It would be radically changed, revolutionized, replaced: “A new heavens and a new earth.”

What would life be like if we were no longer afraid? We would live as the saints do—not immune to suffering, but, if I can put it this way, unaffected by it. We would know that we are loved by a power that transcends death, and this would fill us with an exuberance beyond measure.

Good Friday

The Final Enemy

God hates death and wants nothing to do with it. Listen to the words of Ezekiel the prophet: “I will open your graves and have you rise from them” (Ezekiel 37:12). These are spoken just after the marvelous scene of the enlivening of the dry bones.

There is an important clue here, by the way. Those dry bones were there because a battle had been fought on that spot. Death, the fear of death, the threat of death, putting to death—all of this broods over human life and grounds sin and oppression. Think for a moment: all sin flows finally from a fear of death. Every tyrant who has ever lived has succeeded through awakening in people the fear of death.

But what if death, as we know it and experience it, is not at all what God intended? What if it were something that God wanted to deal with once and for all, to get rid of? The book of Genesis tells us clearly that death came from sin. Mind you, death is not the dissolution of the body—that seems to be part of the natural process. But death as we experience it—as something fearful, horrible, terrifying—comes from having turned from God.

On this Good Friday, it's important to remember that Jesus came primarily as a warrior whose final enemy is death. I know how easy it is to domesticate Jesus, presenting him as a kindly and inspiring moral teacher, but that is not how the Gospels present him. He is a cosmic warrior who has come to do battle with all of those forces that keep us from being fully alive.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus deals with the effects of death and a death-obsessed culture: violence, hatred, egotism, exclusion, false religion, phony community.

But the final enemy he must face down is death itself. And he does it on a cross.

Holy Saturday

He Descended Into Hell

Today we commemorate Holy Saturday, the quiet, somber interlude between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Instead of sharing my own reflections I'd like to share this ancient homily, composed by an anonymous source. It brings to life that stirring line in the Apostle's Creed: "He descended into hell.”

What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled.

Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam's son.

The Lord goes into them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: "My Lord be with you all." And Christ in reply says to Adam: "And with your spirit." And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying:

"Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.

I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise.

I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person.

For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden.

Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image.

See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one.

I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you.

But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God.

The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages."

Pope Francis scolds parishioner after being pulled into crowd and onto k...

St. Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin

S t.  Joseph  is  the  spouse  of  the  Blessed   Virgin  Mary  and  the  foster-father  of   Jesus.  His  important  mission  in  God's  plan of   salvation   was   to   legally   insert   Jesus Christ  into  the  line  of  David  from  whom, according   to   the   prophets,   the   Messiah would be born, and to act as his father and guardian. 

  Most of our information about St. Joseph comes from the opening  two  chapters  of St. Matthew's  Gospel. No  words of  his  are  recorded  in  the  Gospels;  he  was  the  "silent" man.  We  find  no  devotion  to  St.  Joseph  in  the  early Church,  but  he  was  later  venerated  by  the  great  saints  of the Middle Ages. Pius IX (1870) declared him patron and protector of the universal family of the Church. 

St.   Joseph   was   an   ordinary   manual   laborer   although descended  from  the  royal  house  of  David.  In  the  designs of  Providence  he  was  destined  to  become  the  spouse of the  Mother  of  God.  His  high  privilege  is  expressed in  a single phrase, "Foster-father of Jesus." About him Sacred Scripture has little more to say than that he was a just man -   an   expression   which   indicates   how   faithfully   he  fulfilled  his  high  trust  of  protecting  and  guarding  God's greatest treasures upon earth, Jesus and Mary. 

 The  darkest  hours  of  his  life  may  well  have  been  those when  he  first  learned  of  Mary's  pregnancy;  but  precisely in  this  time  of  trial  Joseph  showed  himself  great. His    suffering, which likewise formed a part of the work of the redemption,  was  not  without  great  providential  import: Joseph was to be, for all times, the trustworthy witness of the  Messiah's  virgin  birth.  After  this,  he  modestly  retires into the background of Holy Scripture. 

 At  present  there  are  two  major  feasts  in  his  honor.  On March 19 our veneration is directed to him personally and to his part in the work of redemption, while on May1 we honor  him  as  the  patron  of  workmen  throughout  the world.  (excerpt catholicculture.org

Lenten Reflection: Family Conversion/Relationship Conversion.

 Lent can be a good time to reflect on the people who mean the most to us and the  relationships  we hold most dear.  It  can be jarring to realize that our time together as a family might amount to no more than a few minutes  a  day.  Our  lives  are  independent  as  we  scatter  in  different     directions each day for work, school or childcare.

 This  season  of  reflection  and  renewal  might  be  an  appropriate  time  to pray  about  our  family  lives  and  how  we  can  be  more thoughtful  and prayerful  about  Lent  as  a  family.  Perhaps  we  could hold  a  family    meeting  over  dinner  or  some  other  relaxed  place.  We  could  discuss Lent and the symbols of the season. We might want to talk about how our  faith  life  is  not  a  journey  we  make  alone,  but one  we  are  in  as  a community, as a family. 

One  Lenten  family  practice  might  include  a  daily  act  of  love  for  our family. Can we look around and see some small thing that needs to be done to make our lives together better? Is there laundry to sort or dishes to be washed?  Is there a floor that needs sweeping or a room that needs dusting?  Just  one  effort  by  each  of  us  each  day  can  make  a  dramatic difference  in  sharing  the  workload  in  the  family.  The  grace  we  are reaching  for  goes  beyond  getting  the  garbage  taken out,  for  example.  We  know  it  is  a  grace  when  the  experience  of  taking  the  garbage  out feels  like  an  act  of  love,  an  act  of  solidarity  as a  family.  Perhaps  the simplest way to prepare for this grace is to pray: 

  “Dear Lord, may this simple, ordinary sacrifice of my time               

  for the sake of those I love, draw us closer together as                 

  a family whose hearts you are drawing to yourself 

  in the togetherness of our family love.” 

One  of  the  real  graces  of  Lent  has  to  do  with  forgiveness  and    reconciliation  –  mercy  and  healing.  This  is  never  simply  a  matter  between Jesus and me.  It always has something to do with my family and  with  my  relationships  –  how  we  are  with  each  other.  What  in  us needs  mercy  and  healing?  What  patterns  that  we  have  need  our          reflections and common family choices and actions this Lent?

 (onlineministries.creighton.edu)

We too shall see Christ in His glory.

 T he momentary vision of Christ in His glory was given in order to strengthen  the  three  Apostles  to  face  the  trials  to  their  faith, which  the  sufferings  and  crucifixion  of  their  beloved  master  would bring.  It  is  retold to  us  today,  in the  early  part of  Lent, to encourage us  to  persevere  in  our  Lenten  mortification.  It  reminds  us  that,  very soon, the Easter bells will be ringing out their message of joy. If we are  sharers  with  Christ  in  His  sufferings,  we  shall  be  sharers  with Him in His glory. 

 This is a truth we all too easily forget, namely, that we cannot get to heaven  in  a  limousine.  Our  time  on  earth  is  the  chance  given  us  by our  heavenly  Father  to  earn  an  eternal  reward  which  surpasses  even the  wildest  imagination  of  man.  We  could  never  earn  it,  but  God    accepts the little we can do and provides the balance with His infinite mercy. 

 And  yet  there  are  far  too many  who  refuse even  that  little  bit  that is asked of them, and are thus running the risk of not partaking in God's scheme   for   their   eternal   happiness.   Illnesses   and   troubles   and  disappointments  come  to  all  men.  They  respect  neither  wealth,  nor power,  nor  position.  The  man  who  knows  his  purpose in  life,  and  is ever striving to reach the goal God has planned for him, can and will see  in  these  trials  of  life  the  hand  of  a  kind  father  who  is  preparing him  for  greater  things.  His  sufferings  become  understandable  and more bearable because of his attitude. The man who ignores God has nothing  to console  him  in his hours  of sorrow  and  pain.  Yet, sorrow and pain will dog his footsteps, strive as he will to avoid them. 

Christ has asked us to follow Him, carrying our daily cross. The end of our journey is not Calvary but resurrection, the entrance to a life of glory  with  our  risen  Savior.  The  Christian  who  grasps  his  cross closely  and  willingly,  knowing  its  value  for  his  real  life,  will  find  it becomes lighter and often not a burden but a pleasure. 

Let  the  thought  of  the  Transfiguration  encourage  each  one  of  us     today, to do the little God demands of us, so that when we pass out of this  life  we  may  be  assured  of  seeing  Christ  in  His  glory,  ready  to welcome us into His everlasting, glorious kingdom. (excerpt: catholic.culture.